


Sherly

by melchizedek



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Confusion, I love dreams lol, M/M, dream - Freeform, i suck at tags just read it smh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melchizedek/pseuds/melchizedek
Summary: Merges of Dream and reality that sparks the truth about John's emotions to his own reckoning.





	

John was confused.

Well, considering who his flatmate was, that shouldn’t be much of a surprise. However, after living with the guy for years, he could safely say that his best friend had gone completely insane.

“What, in the world, do you think you’re doing?” John asked, looking in shock at a poorly dressed world renewed consulting detective taking a nap on the floor of a warehouse.

“Oh, hi John! It’s been a while.” He answered, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation he’s in. For a man who’s job was to deduce things out of dust, he was pretty daft.

“Don’t ‘hi John’ me!” He snapped, and proceeded to grab him by the arms. How could he just do this? “Have you been taking drugs? Do you do this when I’m not around? WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING HERE IN-? “

“Calm down.” Sherlock shook his head, “it’s for a case.”

John raised his eyebrows, not convinced in the least. “Oh, okay. I completely and instantly believe you.”

“Tsk, look John- “

“NO!” He cut him off. “Why are you doing this Sherlock… Why didn’t you tell me if you needed help? I could have helped you!” He shook his head, marching out of the warehouse and into his car. John sat back in his seat, half-waiting for Sherlock to come so he could kick him out of the car. But then he remembered, how did he even get to the warehouse in the first place? He doesn’t have a car.

“I don’t have a car…”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Huh?” John snapped his eyes open, not knowing when he’d closed them. He found himself sitting in a fancy restaurant with Sherlock, a well-done steaming steak invading his senses completely. “Oh, sorry I got distracted.”

“Yeah well,” Sherlock smiled slyly, “I tend to distract a lot of people. It’s understandable.”

…What?

“Excuse me?” John questioned, feeling a tinge of hotness spreading across his cheeks. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, you were frowning. You frown a lot when you think of me.” He smiled wider, facing John with the fondest pair of eyes he’d ever seen.

“Oh, I just thought-” ‘that you were flirting with me…’ he continued in his mind, but he stopped himself, unwilling to open any doors with Sherlock. That would be too weird.

“I know what you thought. I mean, you’re blushing.” He gave John a cheeky smile that made him to choke on his food.

“Wha- I’m not blushing!”

“You are.”

“Just eat your food Sherlock.” He said sharply, adjusting his tie slightly, when did it get so stuffed in here?

“Very well,” he raised his arms in surrender, still annoyingly grinning. “Wouldn’t want to waste the food over a couple quarrel do we.”  
John was startled at that. They weren’t on a date, were they? He looked around, seeing everybody in pairs, obviously romantic pairs. One of the pair had a small black box sitting behind a basket of bread, hidden from their date. John looked at his table, seeing two bread baskets before him and Sherlock. He couldn’t see what’s behind Sherlock’s, but he could see what’s behind his.

A small box, a jewellery box.

Was he going to propose?

“Are you alright John?” Sherlock looked in concern. John was in turmoil, tapping his feet against the concrete out of nervousness. What does this mean? What was happening? The distant rambling of the costumers filled his ears, annoying him with ever move. A woman laughed out loud, and continued to laugh until he was completely fed up.

He banged his hands on the table. “SHUT UP!”

“I didn’t say anything?”

?

He snapped his eyes open again, finding himself sat loosely on his chair. Sherlock seemed to have been typing on his laptop, only he stopped and was looking at John, concern written all over his face.

That’s not like Sherlock at all.

“Ah, sorry mate. I just had this weird dream…”

Sherlock considered him for a bit, before turning to his computer once more. “Was it about me?”

John looked at him, feeling slightly weirded out. “Why would you think that?”

Sherlock looked even more concerned now, his lips pressing into a thin line, as if he’s trying to figure out how John could be so stupid. He stood up and took a pillow with him, slowly stalking towards John’s seat. He took one last glance at him, smirked, and handed him the pillow.

“You have an erection. Didn’t you notice?”

John looked down, and viciously grabbed the pillow to cover himself. “This- This isn’t what you think!”

“So I’m right, you dreamed about me.” Sherlock tried (and failed) to cover his smile, like he was proud of himself for some reason.

“Yeah but, not THAT kind of dream…” He looked away, frankly done with Sherlock’s judging tone. Well, he wasn’t exactly JUDGING him, but the teasing was too embarrassing.

“Clearly, it’s YOUR kind of dream, John.” He stated dryly.

“Will you knock it off?”

“Knock what off?”

“THIS!”

“John are you okay?”

John opened his eyes, slowly this time. Feeling tired out of his mind. His entire body hurt.

Cab…

Crash…

Sherlock’s window broke…

Sherlock’s blood…

Sherlock?

“Sher…lock?” He gasped, the white lights attacked his eyes as if they were blinding him on purpose.

“I’m here John.” He glanced to his right, seeing his friend sat on his bed next to him. Bandages were on his head, and around his right arm. Other than that, his friend seemed in a better state than he was. He smiled at him, as best as he could. Just enough to wipe the sad look that overtook Sherlock’s features.

He was in a hospital, after getting hit by a car on their way back home.

“You look awful, Sherly.” He chuckled, feeling quite light-hearted. Sherlock didn’t share the same mood though.

“Oh lord, you’re not okay.”

“I am, I am!” He smiled, “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Sherly? Really John? Should I start calling you Johnny, Jawn, or pumpkin?” John coughed suspiciously at that, it sounded too odd coming from Sherlock.

“No! Ah, I know, it’s just…” He can’t explain it. His dreams made him feel quite weird, and he was truly scared in the five seconds of consciousness in which he was whirled around like a ragdoll in the cab. Can anyone blame him for being slightly silly now?  
Sherlock stayed silent, a smile forming to match John’s, as if he understood. He scooted closer, slightly leaning over to John and slipping his hand into his partner’s. John’s breath hitched, not really understanding what’s happening.

“Did you dream about me?”

He knew he was blushing, and he bit his lower lip out of nervousness. Sherlock’s eyes didn’t leave him, he just sat there, knowing this is a man he cannot lie to even if he tried.

“How would you know?” He replied.

“You’re smiling; you sometimes smile when you’re thinking about me.”

John wouldn’t argue with that.

“Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Everything means something when it’s you, John.” He grinned, a toothy grin, and it just made him want to ruffle his messy hair.

‘…I didn’t just think that, did I?’

John didn’t know what to think about those dreams. Were they just random, or was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Either way, this wasn’t the end, it was the spark to his discovery. And whether he’ll embrace it, or choose to no-homo his way into oblivion, only time will tell.

> THE END.


End file.
